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“I haven’t been since I was a kid. Madison’s family invited me in middle school.”
“It’ll come right back to you,” Caleb tells me.
“I doubt that. I was never that good. And don’t people break their legs skiing all the time?”
“If it happened ‘all the time’ I don’t think anyone would go. You can stay on the bunny hill. We can even get you one of those ropes little kids use if you want.”
I snort. “Well, based on how the last few interactions with your parents have gone, spending a few hours at the hospital might be more fun.”
Caleb laughs, but then turns serious. “We don’t have to go, Len.”
Guilt swirls in my stomach. “I want to go.”
“Liar.”
I smile. “I think we should go.”
I expect that to be the end of any heavy conversation. Caleb has other ideas. “About the farm…”
“It’s sold, Caleb. Done.”
“I thought you wanted to live in Landry, though.”
“That’s a big decision to make. I thought Gramps would be around for a lot longer. I got used to the idea it’s where I would stay. I was waiting to see where you ended up.” I raise a shoulder and then let it drop. “Things changed.”
“Well, I still have a farm in Landry.”
“You mean your parents do.”
Caleb shakes his head. “No. I meanIdo. My grandfather left me the property in his will. As soon as I turned eighteen, it was mine. One final way to piss of my dad, probably. My parents got his townhouse in DC. Took my dad about a week to sell it.”
I picture the Winters estate, soaring columns and impeccable landscaping. Everything shiny and state-of-art and brand-new. “You own the farm?”
“Yes.”
Based on what Matthews Farm just sold for, I have a pretty good idea what the Winters estate must be worth. “Wow.”
“Tom Stradwell told me he offered you a job at theGazette. We can move back to Landry, after graduation.”
“But what about baseball? The draft?”
“I don’t have to play, Lennon.”
“But you want to. You love baseball.”
“I love you more,” Caleb says. His words twist my insides, in both a good and a bad way.
“You don’t have to choose, Caleb. I gave the farm up to come here. I didn’t abandon a dream.”
“Didn’t you?” he replies.
I look away. In some way, I guess I did.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
CALEB
Lennon’s hand tightens around mine, almost cutting off the circulation.
